POETRY

The Dirt Seeps In

A poem

Photo by Bogomil Mihaylov on Unsplash

The dirt seeps in,
Deeper than the skin,
Where the skirt is thin,
On the keeper’s grin.

The hurt creeps in,
Deeper on a whim,
Where we’re curt within,
And cheaper for the sin.

The earth breaks in,
And we glean a morbid win,
To forget about our sin,
And to clean our sordid skin.

But the mirth we’d win,
Is better kept within,
Lest we taint our grin,
Trying to paint a vail thin.

We’re better planting in,
The seeds of a better fin,
In the dirt that breeds a win,
Where it’s free of weeds of sin.

Because the dirt seeps in,
Deeper than the skin.

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